Sticky
by 427-67Impala
Summary: The boys are on a hunt in Vermont, where Sam has a rare opportunity to have 'real' maple syrup on his short stack at breakfast. Dean, naturally, can think of something better for his baby brother to put the syrup on. Wincest, PWP. Oneshot.


_Title:_ Sticky_  
>Author:<em> 427-67Impala  
><em>Rating:<em> M  
><em>Warnings:<em> Wincest, established relationship, explicit sexual content, food kink  
><em>Word count:<em> 6,436  
><em>Setting:<em> I see it in Season 3

The boys are on a hunt in Vermont, where Sam has a rare opportunity to have 'real' maple syrup on his short stack at breakfast. Dean, naturally, can think of something _better_ for his baby brother to put the syrup on. Oneshot.

_A/N:_ PWP. Consider yourself warned. :)  
>The plot bunny for this fic was a relative of the bunny that brought me <em>Wolfsbane<em> - the maple syrup idea came to me when I was writing about the boys having breakfast in a diner in Quebec. I imagine it starting out kind of like _Mystery Spot_ did, with Sam and Dean in a diner having breakfast, but going somewhere quite different from there…

As we know, Sam and Dean belong to Kripke & co. - I'm just borrowing their toys...

* * *

><p><em>St. Albans, Vermont<em>

"I'll have the sausage and egg plate, with a side of bacon and black coffee," Dean told the waitress, who dutifully scribbled it down on one of those little notepads all waitresses seem to carry around.

As she wrote she stood with her weight mostly on her right leg, curvaceous hips tilted at an inviting angle, and looked out at Dean from under her long eyelashes. She was making a concerted effort to catch this handsome customer's eye while the tall guy sitting opposite him studied the menu.

"What're you having, Sammy?" Dean asked, and his little brother looked up.

"I'll have a short stack with the maple syrup, and a coffee," he said, his eyes flicking up to the waitress. They lingered on her for a second as she wrote that down as well, but her attention never wavered from Dean.

The waitress was an uncommonly pretty girl, used to every second customer hitting on her, and she'd been actively trying to attract Dean's attention since she walked up to their table. But for some reason he was totally ignoring her, and she definitely _wasn't_ used to that. She gave a little indignant huff and strutted away, but he didn't notice that either.

"You ever gonna order _real_ food for breakfast?" Dean asked, quirking an eyebrow at his little brother.

"I will when you do." Sam put the menu back behind the ketchup and salt and pepper shakers and looked pointedly back at him from across the table.

"What? Sausage is food." Dean's tone was defensive, but a smile touched the corners of his mouth.

"Uh huh," Sam said dubiously, raising an eyebrow of his own.

"Yeah, okay. Maybe not the sausage, but the egg definitely is." Dean resisted the urge to stick his tongue out at Sam, who just smiled pleasantly as the waitress returned with their coffee. She briefly tried catching Sam's eye, but was ignored for the second time in as many minutes.

The food arrived fairly soon after the coffee, and the waitress didn't even attempt to get either Winchester's attention this time around. She set the pancakes in front of Sam and the plate of greasy sausage, eggs, bacon and hash brown in front of Dean, and left without even bothering to bat an eyelash.

Dean immediately covered everything in ketchup and dug in with the enthusiasm of a starving man, and Sam wrinkled his nose as he watched. He just didn't understand how his brother could eat that and not have his heart explode. Or how he managed to keep all the saturated fat from accumulating on that chiselled physique of his, for that matter.

Sam made himself look away from Dean's heart-attack-on-a-plate and down at his own breakfast. The waitress had brought him a couple of golden, fluffy-looking pancakes that were big enough to cover almost the entire plate, with a few chunks of pale whipped butter melting slowly on top and a few strawberries and half a sliced banana on the side. She'd also left him a glass bottle of maple syrup, the kind with the little loop on the neck, and he let out a little whoop of joy when he saw the label.

Dean looked up to find Sam grinning and drenching his pancakes with the viscous syrup, and he didn't stop pouring until the bottom pancake was sitting in a shallow amber pool. Then he stuck his fork in and sliced off a thin section that dripped syrup back into the small ocean on his plate as he lifted it to his lips.

Sam's eyes fluttered closed and he let out a groan of pleasure as the sticky morsel touched his tongue, tilting his head back and letting his hands drop back to the table. Dean blinked, not entirely sure what was going on - it wasn't like he'd never seen that kind of reaction from Sam before, it was just that he was more used to seeing it when some part of his body was wrapped around his little brother's cock.

"You feeling okay there, Sammy?" Dean asked warily, watching as his little brother slowly chewed the pancake. He wasn't the only one, either - a few other diners were sneaking looks at Sam, also wondering what the hell was going on. But Sam didn't answer until he was finished that mouthful, and moaned contentedly before he opened his eyes.

"Real maple syrup, Dean. _Real maple syrup_," he sighed happily, like that sentence should mean something to Dean.

Dean studied Sam from across the table - his little brother's lips were dewy with syrup, his cheeks were flushed and he was looking back with half-lidded eyes. Dean shifted in his chair, his jeans rapidly becoming uncomfortably tight. It seemed like every drop of blood in his body was trying to cram itself into his cock.

"It's just syrup, right…?" he asked slowly, and Sam laughed.

"It's just syrup, Dean," he confirmed, grinning and cutting off another slice. He savoured that much more quietly than the first. This time, he didn't attract the attention of half the diner.

"'Cause, you know, I thought it must be maple-flavoured crack or something," Dean went on, trying to ignore the fact his jeans now felt at least two sizes too small. Sam chuckled again, licking a trickle of syrup from his chin.

Dean bit down on his bottom lip, his own breakfast completely forgotten on the table in front of him. His mind was occupied with more important things just then, such as the sudden desire to leap across the table, pin his little brother to the floor and suck every last drop of syrup off Sam's pretty mouth. That'd _really_ get the other diners' attention.

Sam smiled, completely unaware of the effect he was having on his big brother, and passed him the syrup bottle by way of an explanation. Dean scanned the label, then looked back up at Sam with slightly raised eyebrows.

"So I take it 'real Vermont maple syrup' is better than the stuff you usually have...?" he queried, and Sam grinned through another mouthful of syrup-soaked pancake.

"Soooo much better!" Sam's words were muffled by the pancake, so he swallowed before he continued. "I could drink the stuff. This is what _God_ would have on his pancakes." He took a sip of coffee and cut himself another slice. "It's heaven on a plate, Dean." Sam sighed deeply, eyes closed and a smile on his sticky lips as he ate.

Dean chewed thoughtfully on a strip of bacon as he watched his baby brother relish this latest mouthful. _Heaven, huh?_

Sam was still in pancake paradise, so he didn't notice Dean mulling that over. He didn't know it yet, but his big brother had taken that as a challenge.

o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- o-o-o

Sam and Dean spent the rest of the day talking to people that had witnessed the haunting that had brought them to town in the first place, but after Sam's little display at breakfast, Dean found it kind of hard to concentrate on the job. His mind kept replaying that expression of ecstasy on his little brother's face when he'd bitten into the pancake, and the groan that had accompanied it.

Fortunately, when Dean's mind started wandering, Sam kept kicking him discreetly in the shin and bringing him back to reality. The witnesses they were talking to might have been put out if one of the alleged FBI agents sitting in their living room had a raging hard-on.

By the end of the day, Dean had been able to think clearly for just long enough to come up with a plan. After their last interview he dropped Sam off at the motel and went out alone, under the guise of fuelling up the Impala. He did stop off for gas - the Impala _always_ needed gas - but he also did a little shopping.

The service station didn't have what Dean was after, but he eventually found it at a nearby supermarket. He stowed his prize safely in his jacket pocket - he was wearing a jacket despite the balmy early-Autumn night - then grabbed a couple of take-away chicken dinners on his way back to the motel, but waited till after they'd eaten to put his plan into action.

After clearing away the remains of dinner, Sam was washing his hands at the kitchen sink when Dean sidled up behind him and pressed up against his back. Sam turned off the tap and lifted his head, looking over his shoulder at Dean. He could feel his brother's body heat soaking through his shirt, delightfully warm against the skin of his back.

"Got you something, Sammy," he whispered, lips only a couple of inches from Sam's ear. His breath tickled the skin, drawing a little involuntary shiver from his baby brother, and Dean smiled as he produced an object wrapped in a brown paper bag and put it in Sam's hands.

Sam took the little gift, then turned around and gave Dean a kiss. He pressed closer, pushing Sam back against the edge of the bench as he kissed back.

"Gonna open it?" he murmured against Sam's lips, after half a minute.

"Dunno," Sam breathed, "kinda busy."

Even with his lips pressed against Dean's, he still managed to make the response dry. Dean chuckled and he felt the corners of his little brother's lips turn up in a smile.

Dean started to pull back from the kiss, but Sam made a little disappointed sound and leaned forward to follow him. He put a hand flat on his baby brother's chest and pushed him back, finally breaking the kiss. He stood back a step and licked his lips, savouring the taste of Sam's mouth, and looked at him expectantly.

The younger Winchester pouted a little - _he_ wanted to be the one licking Dean's lips. He leaned back against the bench with a wistful sigh, looking down at the paper bag in his hands.

"So, what have you done?" he asked, glancing up as he began to unfold the brown paper. A little smile touched the corner of his mouth as an expression of panic flashed across Dean's face.

It wasn't often Dean bought Sam presents for no reason. Usually, if he unexpectedly brought home a bottle of good whiskey or a block of Sam's favourite chocolate, he was trying to apologise for something. But, as far as Sam knew, he hadn't done anything to apologise _for_; which meant this was a gift Dean had bought just because he thought his brother would like it. And those were Sam's favourite ones.

It took Dean a second to realise Sam was joking, and he opened his mouth to come back with a smartass comment of some description. Unfortunately, his brain couldn't quite make the leap from 'panic stations' to 'witty remarks', so he had to settle for sucking in a long, calming breath instead. Sam continued smiling but didn't say anything else as he opened the bag.

When he saw what was inside, that little smile grew wider - a round, flattened glass bottle with a characteristic little loop of glass on the neck. He drew the bottle out of the bag, and the smile turned into a grin when he saw the label: 'Vermont Grade A Medium Amber Maple Syrup'.

When he looked back up at Dean, eyes shining, his big brother was smiling too. "Thanks, Dean." Sam rewarded him with a quick kiss before he unscrewed the cap and took a long sniff of the contents, savouring the sweet maple scent.

"My pleasure," Dean replied, "but if you wanna keep it, there's one condition."

Sam narrowed his eyes slightly. "What kind of condition?" he asked warily, and Dean's smile turned into a grin the Cheshire Cat would be proud of.

"You're not allowed to put it on pancakes," he said pointedly, and Sam's brow creased as he thought that over. It only took him a few seconds to work out what Dean meant, then his mouth turned up in a slow smile.

"Oh - you want me to put it on _you_."

Dean just kept smiling that wolfish smile, and Sam let out a long, slow breath as he thought about licking this Medium Amber nectar of the gods from Dean's skin. He stood silently for a minute, looking down at the bottle as he turned it over and over in his hands, watching the air bubble in the dark gold liquid float lazily back to the top every time.

He suddenly looked up at Dean, still turning the bottle in his hands. "Why?" he asked, and Dean blinked.

"Well, I think that's pretty self-explanatory..." he said slowly, arching an eyebrow. That wasn't exactly the reaction he'd been hoping for.

Sam smiled. "No - I mean, what gave you the idea?" he chuckled, and Dean exhaled as he remembered.

"This morning in the diner, when you took that first bite of your pancakes," he said. Sam looked blankly back at him - obviously, the kid had no idea what he was talking about.

"You mean you don't know you sounded like I was jerking you off under the table?" Dean asked sceptically, and Sam's mouth fell open in surprise. Then his eyes went wide and his cheeks flushed pink as he realised what that must have looked like to the rest of the people in the diner.

Dean liked it when Sam blushed, and the smile it brought to his lips only made Sam blush deeper. As far as Dean was concerned it was adorable, but he knew Sam hated it - which is one of the reasons his big brother enjoyed it so much.

"_That's_ why you were looking at me like that!" Sam gasped, obviously mortified. Dean couldn't help it - he burst out laughing, and Sam glared at him accusingly.

"Why didn't you _tell_ me?" he demanded, but had to wait till Dean could stop laughing for an answer. It took him fully half a minute to compose himself.

"I couldn't think straight, Sammy - there was no blood left in my brain," he replied eventually, between breaths, and Sam had to think for a second to work out what he meant. When the penny finally dropped, a smile spread slowly across his face and the blush started fading from his cheeks. Now he understood.

There was a little sparkle in Sam's eye as he regarded his big brother. "That's what you've been thinking about all day, when you were off in your own little world." He was smiling widely now, embarrassment forgotten.

"Guilty," Dean replied, with a smile of his own.

"I really did a number on you, huh?"

That got another laugh from Dean, but he couldn't deny it was true. Sam might be the bottom in their relationship - most of the time, anyway - but he had a kind of control over Dean that no-one else did. He'd demonstrated that once again at breakfast, and he hadn't even known he was doing it.

"God, Sam, you don't even know - just _looking_ at you..." Dean sighed, catching his bottom lip between his teeth as he remembered. "I wanted to throw you onto the floor and kiss every last drop of that freaking syrup off your lips," he admitted, and Sam took a long, slow breath as he imagined that. Now _his_ jeans were starting to get uncomfortably tight.

"Then you said it was 'heaven'..." Dean shrugged a shoulder, looking at the bottle of syrup in his brother's hand.

"And naturally, you took that as a challenge." Sam finished the sentence for him. He knew exactly how his brother's mind worked.

"I thought I knew of something you might enjoy with your syrup more than pancakes, yeah," Dean replied, eyes sparkling.

Sam took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "Let's find out."

He grasped Dean's wrist and pulled him towards the king-size bed at the other end of the room. When they got to the foot of the bed, Dean gave his baby brother a sneaky little shove and grabbed the syrup bottle from his hand as Sam fell heavily onto the dark blue bedspread with a surprised grunt.

He opened his mouth to protest, but Dean was on top of him before he could get a word out. He straddled Sam's hips and silenced him with a kiss, reaching out with his right arm and setting the syrup bottle on the nightstand.

Sam punched him gently in the shoulder by way of a reprimand, but he didn't struggle. With Dean's marshmallow lips crushing down on his like this, he just couldn't bring himself to interrupt the kiss. He felt his brother's lips curl into a little smile, but he didn't care about that either - he could feel Dean's fingers undoing the buttons on his flannel shirt and that was something else he didn't want to interrupt.

"You're gonna pay for that," Sam warned him breathlessly, when he sat back onto his little brother's thighs and pulled his own t-shirt off. Dean just smiled as he threw his black Led Zeppelin shirt onto the floor beside the bed.

"Bring it on," he leaned forward and kissed his little brother again. Sam wriggled out of his flannel shirt without breaking the kiss, and had barely tossed it off the bed when Dean dragged the underlying white t-shirt over his head and threw it down onto the growing pile of clothes.

No sooner had Dean let the shirt go than Sam gripped his shoulders and rolled him hard to the right, reversing their positions and pinning his big brother to the bed. He sat over Dean's hips, his full weight holding the older Winchester down as he glared helplessly up at his brother. Pinned down like this, with Sam's full weight on him, there wasn't a damn thing Dean could do about it. Sam looked down at him and just smiled.

The hard look on his brother's face began to soften as he unsnapped Dean's button fly, one stud at a time, very slowly - the tension of his erection straining against the fabric of his jeans made it somewhat difficult, so Sam took his time getting them undone and the jeans off. More time than he really needed, but to his mind Dean deserved it.

The rest of their remaining clothes quickly followed Dean's jeans onto the floor, but Sam paused before he retrieved the bottle of syrup from the nightstand. He sat over his big brother, straddling his thighs, and looked thoughtfully down at him.

"Before one drop of this syrup touches you, I've got a condition of my own," Sam said, slowly.

"Oh, do you now?" Dean asked mildly.

Sam nodded. "You're not allowed to touch yourself."

Dean knit his brow and frowned a little. "Really?" he groaned, obviously not thrilled.

"Promise me," Sam insisted, looking intently down at his brother. Dean looked back impassively for a minute, but then he sighed and his expression softened into the familiar look that meant Sam was going to get his way.

"Okay, fine," he conceded, and Sam's face immediately broke out into a smile. "But only because I know you're too nice to leave me hanging for long," he added quickly, a hint of hope in his voice.

Sam just chuckled - an altogether too evil sound for Dean's taste. He got the feeling Sam wasn't going to be so charitable tonight.

Satisfied, Sam picked up the maple syrup, uncapped it and took a sniff - just the scent was enough to make him smile. But before he let one amber drop touch his brother's skin, he stopped for a second to take in the sight in front of him.

Dean lay flat on his back on the bedspread, naked and already covered in a thin film of sweat; a result of their activities and the warm night. The light from the bare globe over the kitchen table didn't quite reach this end of the room, and all the ridges and valleys of Dean's muscles threw little shadows that highlighted his physique. There was a gorgeous soft pink flush high on his cheeks, and his eyes looked big and dark as he stared up at Sam. The pupils were blown so wide - a combination of lust and the dark room - that the green irises were only rings around the edges.

God, he was beautiful.

Sam took a long breath, then held the open bottle of syrup over Dean's chest and poured a little into the valley between his pecs. The syrup was still a little warm from being in Dean's pocket, but even so it was still thick and sticky. It ran down towards his washboard abs in a slow, steady, dark gold trickle that tickled and made him shiver.

Sam watched the syrup flowing slowly over Dean's tanned skin, then dipped a finger into the sugary liquid at his brother's sternum and ran it slowly over his stomach down towards his navel. Sam brought his sticky finger to his mouth and licked it clean, closing his eyes briefly as he savoured the taste.

The syrup had a strong, distinct maple flavour and, tasting it on its own like this, even a slightly smoky undertone that was the result of reducing the raw maple sap over a wood fire. Not that Sam was thinking about the maple syrup production process at that point.

He leaned down and licked slowly up the midline of Dean's six-pack, from navel to sternum, and Dean's eyes fluttered shut. He took a long, slow breath as he felt his little brother's tongue on his skin, then let it out in a low groan as Sam repeated the action.

Sam drizzled a little more syrup higher on his chest, over his right collarbone. Dean turned his head slightly to the left and Sam continued the thin line of syrup up his neck, stopping at the point of his jaw. He set the bottle back on the nightstand then leaned down and placed a trail of slow kisses along Dean's collarbone, drinking the sticky sweetness off his brother's skin.

Dean let out a little groan as Sam started kissing up the side of his neck, following the trail of syrup and almost sucking a bruise into the skin with every kiss. Through half-lidded eyes, Dean caught a glimpse of the two of them reflected in the glass of the motel room window - Sam sitting astride his older brother, both of them naked, and the younger Winchester leaning over so his chest was almost touching Dean's.

Sam's face was buried in Dean's neck, licking and kissing every last drop of syrup from his skin, and their reflection looked for all the world like that of a vampire and its prey. Any hunter that saw them through the window would think Sam was sucking blood, not maple syrup - after they got over the fact that it was Sam and Dean Winchester they were watching, that is.

Dean smiled at the thought and closed his eyes, moaning as Sam nipped at the point where his shoulder met his neck. The syrup was gone now - Sam was just kissing and nipping Dean's neck to draw those pleased little noises from his big brother because he liked them.

He stopped when he felt Dean shift under him, and sat up. He saw a small rivulet of leftover syrup that had escaped Dean's six-pack, running slowly across his stomach to his side and starting to trail down towards his back. He had caught the stray trickle with his index finger, wiping it off his skin, but Sam grabbed his wrist before he could smear the syrup off onto the bedspread.

Dean's eyes widened as Sam brought that hand up to his mouth and he let out a small, strangled moan as his baby brother wrapped his mouth around the finger at the second knuckle and slowly and sensually sucked it clean.

That was almost more than Dean could take. First Sam's lips and tongue on his skin licking up all that sticky sweetness, and now sucking it off his finger like this... again, Sam had managed to send every drop of blood in Dean's body straight down to his cock.

He was so hard it hurt, and he desperately wanted to reach around between them and relieve the pressure. He knew a few quick strokes was all it would take, and then this tightness in his balls and the throbbing in his cock would be gone and there would only be Sam's pretty mouth left to concentrate on...

Dean started to reach for his aching cock, but Sam suddenly and firmly slapped his hand away. He stopped sucking on Dean's finger, and his big brother's head came up to give him a desperate, pleading look.

"Do I have to tie you down?" Sam admonished, eyebrows raised, and Dean stared up at him in frustration for a second before he shut his eyes and threw his head back into the pillow with a low groan. His hands stayed on the bedspread, though, and Sam smiled.

He'd noticed the way Dean kept restlessly shifting his hips, and Sam knew exactly what was going on. Dean had done this to him before and he understood how frustrating it was not to be allowed to touch yourself. He didn't plan on leaving him to suffer for much longer, but it wasn't often he got to be in control like this and he was going to make the most of it. So he applied some more syrup to Dean's chest, by his left collarbone this time, and took his time licking it up.

Dean kept his hands pressed to the bedspread like a good boy, eyes closed and taking long, deep breaths. The sensation of Sam's talented mouth on his skin and the occasional stroke of his tongue were almost enough to take his mind off the aching tightness between his legs... Dean knew the eventual release would be that much better for the delay, but that didn't mean he wasn't desperate for it _right __the hell __now_!

However much he wanted to come, though, when Sam stopped sucking syrup off his chest, Dean couldn't help the little moan of disappointment that escaped his lips. But he didn't have time to protest further before he found himself sucking in a quick breath as Sam drizzled a fine Medium Amber line over his left hip, the cool syrup a shock to the sensitive skin at the top of his thigh.

He exhaled slowly as Sam leaned down to lick it up, his hair brushing the head of Dean's aching cock and smearing the pearly bead of precum that had formed there. The exhalation turned into a low moan, and Sam smiled against Dean's skin before he sat up again.

His head came off the pillow and he looked up at Sam, sitting over his thighs and holding the bottle of syrup in the air over his navel. A small trickle ran from the open cap, and Dean caught his bottom lip between his teeth as Sam slowly drizzled the sticky amber liquid in a zigzag pattern all over his stomach, watching the thin stream intently as he drew lines on the tanned skin.

Sam started at his navel and slowly moved down until he'd covered Dean's cock - and the smooth skin of his stomach beneath it - in a web of fine amber lines. The syrup felt cold on the hot, flushed skin, and Dean took another sharp breath - his whole body tensed and his hands wound themselves into the bedspread, pulling it into bunches.

Sam smiled and scooted back a little, then slowly leaned forward. Dean closed his eyes, held his breath, and just waited. Sam paused within an inch of his sticky cock, and he groaned in frustration when he felt Sam's breath on his skin. He was_ so _Goddamn_ close_...!

"God, Sam...!" Dean growled, through clenched teeth. He was sorely tempted to reach out and get himself off, but he resisted. His hands didn't move from the bedspread.

Sam smiled, pleased - he'd wondered how long he could draw this out. He was surprised Dean had held out this long, but that frustrated growl told him he wasn't going to last much longer. It was time to put him out of his misery. So Sam leaned forward those few extra inches, and finally took Dean's painfully-hard cock into his mouth.

Dean groaned, initially more out of relief than pleasure, and Sam made a little pleased sound in the back of his throat as his mouth filled with the sweetness of the syrup and the familiar, musky 'Dean' flavour. Overall it was a nice combination, Sam decided - the fact that it was accompanied by Dean moaning his name over and over again just made it better.

Barely half a minute went by before Sam heard a telltale gasp, followed by silence as his brother held that breath - he knew from experience that meant Dean was getting close. His whole body went tense, and Sam pulled back and replaced his lips with his right hand, wrapping it around Dean's cock, and gave a couple of final pulls.

That was enough to get Dean over the edge. He arched his back and groaned his little brother's name as he came, and Sam watched as the sticky white fluid mixed with the amber syrup on his stomach.

Before Dean could even catch his breath, Sam was leaning over him and licking his stomach clean. The sweet sticky of the syrup mixed deliciously with the savoury sticky of Dean's release reminded Sam of things like salted caramel and French fries dipped in soft-serve ice cream.

When he was done, Sam sat back on his heels and ran a hand back through his hair. There was a satisfied little smile on his face like people get when they finally do something they've wanted for ages.

"That's _so_ much better than pancakes," he smiled down at Dean, who was still breathing hard and looking up at his little brother from under his eyelashes. His lips were mulberry-red and slightly puffy, his cheeks were flushed and he was covered in glittering droplets of sweat as well as shiny maple syrup residue. He was _gorgeous_.

"I can't believe you made me wait that long!" Dean panted, doing his best to look put out. It would've been much more convincing if he could have kept the post-orgasm smile off his face.

"Remember that next time you wanna trip me up." Sam grinned. He started to say something else, but was cut off by Dean grabbing his upper arms and throwing him down onto the bed. He hit the mattress with a little cry - again, taken completely by surprise - and within seconds, Dean had reversed their positions.

Sam smiled as Dean knelt between his thighs, and watched him pull open the top drawer of the nightstand. He retrieved a half-empty tube of lubricant and hurriedly applied some of the clear gel to his rapidly hardening cock, then leaned forward and kissed Sam hungrily.

He liked the sweet, salty, and slightly musky flavour he tasted on his brother's lips - they were going to have to repeat this _very_ soon. Just the _thought_ of Sam licking and kissing and sucking the syrup off his skin...

Sam took a sharp breath as he felt the head of Dean's cock brush his ass, and the kiss became harder and rougher. When he felt it touch him again he caught Dean's bottom lip between his teeth and bit down gently but firmly - Dean understood exactly what his little brother was trying to say: _hurry the hell up!_

He smiled against Sam's lips and pressed against him again, but harder this time - after a second of resistance he felt himself slide past the tight ring of muscle, then plunge deep into the tight heat of his baby brother's body. He felt Sam tense around him, impossibly and wonderfully tight, and let out a groan.

Sam's eyes fluttered shut as his lips parted in a low groan of his own, and he released his hold on Dean's lower lip. He arched his back off the mattress, relishing the combination of the hot flash of pain when Dean first slid inside and the crashing wave of pleasure that followed, and felt a line of soft kisses along his jaw and down his neck as his big brother stayed still for a few seconds to give his body time to adjust.

Dean felt it when he relaxed, and kissed his lips again as he started to move. Sam moved with him, slowly at first, as they traded kisses and gentle nips. But Dean soon picked up the pace, without breaking the kiss, and soon Sam was all but chewing on Dean's bottom lip.

The effect Sam's groans and cries of pleasure had on him was similar to the one you get when you throw gasoline on a fire. He pulled back from the kiss, pinned Sam to the bed by the shoulders and started driving into him progressively harder until the old wooden bed frame creaked and threatened to start crashing into the wall with every thrust. Sam was going to feel this for _days_, but neither Winchester brother cared.

At that point Sam couldn't have composed his thoughts enough to say it out loud, but Dean knew from the way his breathing quickened that he was going to come very soon - that was more fuel for Dean's fire.

He wound a hand tight into Sam's hair and pulled, forcing his brother's head back and to the side and exposing the delicate, smooth skin of his throat. It was covered in a sheen of sweat, the muscles pulled taut as steel cables, and Dean could see the carotid artery near the point of Sam's jaw as it pulsed rhythmically in time with his pounding heart.

Dean leaned forward and nipped at the sensitive skin near the pulse, relishing the moan that fell from Sam's lips. He bit harder, tasting the salt in his little brother's sweat, and there was a louder groan as Sam tensed under him.

Dean knew he enjoyed being bitten, but that had been a harder love bite than he'd intended or Sam had wanted. He soothed the injured skin with a kiss, feeling Sam relax, and kissed a line all the way along his jaw and back up to his lips.

The love bite has the desired effect, though. Sam drew in a long breath and closed his eyes, and Dean felt his baby brother tense up again. He arched his back off the bed and his body pulled in so tight around Dean that he almost couldn't move.

Sam's lips parted slightly in the beginnings of a genuine scream of pleasure, but Dean knew it was coming and it was mostly muffled by his lips pressed against his brother's mouth in a passionate, intense kiss. He felt Sam shudder as he came, then all the tension suddenly evaporated from his body and he collapsed back onto the bed, flushed and breathing hard.

Dean didn't slow down just yet, though - his earlier release had taken the edge off, and he continued driving hard into Sam for as long as he could. By the time he was muffling his own cry of pleasure with his brother's lips, Sam was exhausted and literally trembling beneath him.

Dean rolled off him and onto the bed, flaked out on the blue bedspread and sucking in deep breaths. The bedspread stuck to the sticky skin on his side, where a mixture of sweat and runaway syrup had coated the skin, but Dean didn't mind. Just like he didn't mind that his bottom lip was throbbing slightly - that was what happened when Sam chewed on it.

Dean lay there with Sam, just kissing him softly and tasting the sweet-and-salty flavour that lingered on his brother's lips. His hand wound its way up to rest on Sam's jaw, tilting his head at just the right angle, but he flinched when Dean's hand touched the love bite on his neck. There was a red and purple bruise marring the skin, complete with teeth marks - Dean was lucky not to have drawn blood.

"Sorry Sammy," he murmured against his brother's mouth, and Sam sighed contentedly.

"S'okay," he whispered, and pressed his lips harder against Dean's. Apology accepted.

Sam didn't mind it when Dean got a little carried away; he didn't even care that he'd have a nasty bruise. The fact that he couldn't quite control himself with Sam actually made the youngest Winchester feel good and, as he lay there pressed up against his big brother and thinking about what they'd just done, he couldn't help but smile. He stroked the smooth skin of Dean's upper arm absently with the back of his fingers, savouring the moment.

"Dean," he breathed, after a couple of minutes of contented silence.

"Mmm?"

Sam inhaled Dean's earthy/musky/maple scent deeply before he continued. "You smell great," he whispered, and Dean laughed softly.

"I need a shower," he replied regretfully, shivering as Sam licked a particularly sticky patch by his left shoulder, long and slow.

Honestly, they _both_ needed a shower - the pair of them were covered in all sorts of stickiness. And, as much as Sam liked the taste of sweet syrup licked off salty skin and as much as Dean had enjoyed him doing it, neither of them had any desire to get into bed this way and have the sheets stick to them.

"Come on, then," Sam sighed, and reluctantly moved to get out of bed. There was a soft tearing sound as the skin of his chest peeled away from Dean's side, the combination of syrup and sweat sticking them together. Sam stood up, grabbed Dean by the wrist and dragged his older brother up and out of bed.

"You know, I also really like chocolate..." he said, conversationally, and Dean playfully swatted his shoulder.

Sam chuckled and went ahead to start the shower, Dean following with a little smile on his kiss-swollen lips. His mind was working along the same line as Sam's: he was already planning to acquire all sorts of sweet, sticky things for them to lick off each other in the very near future.

* * *

><p><em>I really enjoyed this one<em>_.__ Hope I got the mental imagery across. You'll all have to review and tell me! And, if you enjoyed it, hit the 'share' button at the top of the page and spread the sweet, sticky goodness!_

_Next time you have pancakes, I dare you not to think about licking the syrup off Dean... ;)_


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